If You Could Just Forgive Yourself
by filthy wineglass
Summary: Claus survives the end of the world, like everyone else. However, he remembers maybe a little too much than he wants to, and this newfound discovery leaves Lucas to slowly navigate through the murky waters of their relationship in hopes of finding something that has been lost.
1. 1

**Claus survives (barely, just barely) but he survives and remembers more than he wants to.**

 **In which Claus lives, but not the one Lucas knows. Yet it's all he has, and by God, he is going to love all that he has.**

 **xxx**

Lucas almost couldn't believe his eyes.

After the world was reset, they spent most of their time repairing what was damaged. Relations, buildings, hearts, trying to mend everything that had been broken. It wasn't easy (it was never easy) but there was no way they'd let things stay broken forever.

Kumatora stayed (she had nowhere else to go). Duster moved to Tazmily, felt that goodbyes were too detached and bitter. Flint tries again, given the second chance, he's getting better, slowly and slowly.

Lucas doesn't cry as much anymore (there's no tears left to lose).

Everything had been mild, calming, as it should have been. The first week was fine, everyone basking in the victory and freedom.

Lucas wouldn't forget though. As much as he scrubbed his hands viciously in the washroom, almost to the point where his skin grew dry and cracked, he couldn't rid of the memory of coppery blood on his palms. Blood of his brother, when he hobbled over, tattered, barely breathing, mechanical heartbeat ringing in his ears. When he embraced Lucas on final time. When he closed his eyes one final time.

Lucas could not erase that pain even if he tried. No amount of PK healing would cease the hole in his chest.

Then one day Flint barges into their house, frantic and panicked, as he looks Lucas straight in the eyes and says "It's Claus."

The reaction is immediate. Lucas's entire body freezes, nerves buzzing, adrenaline pumping, every fiber of his being set aflame. His eyes grow misty, yet he forces himself to stand up.

"Really?"

 **xxx**

Claus is rescued from the forest. He's beaten, bruised and wounded, but it's him. Unmistakable orange hair, still adorning the robes given to him by the Pigmask Army.

He's part machine, one side of his body clearly made of metal, extending from the left half of his face all the way down his right arm entirely. Half his chest is littered with scars. He's in bad condition, but when Lucas leans in he can hear the ticking, quiet rhythmic heartbeat.

Claus is still alive.

He's asleep, thankfully. They haul him out from the forest where Flint found him, and into their house. Lucas doesn't hesitate to give up his mattress in order to keep Claus on something comfortable while he recovers.

They treat his wounds (as much as they can, anyway) and Lucas sits by the bed, waiting for him to wake up. Kumatora visits, sits with Lucas as well before becoming restless and eventually leaving.

"You've got the patience of a Saint," she tells him.

"I miss him," Lucas answers simply. Kumatora nods.

On the third morning Claus finally starts to stir. His fingers move first. They flex and grip onto the bed sheets below him, then his eyes snap open almost violently. He's missing his other eye completely, an empty socket where it should have been.

He opens his mouth, and makes a noise not quite human.

"Claus?" Lucas is in the room instantly, Flint following behind him. The cyborg doesn't turn his head, instead, he cries out again. A noise akin to pain rising from his throat.

"Claus, is that you?" Lucas says gently. He approaches slowly, despite Flint's warnings from behind.

"You address me as Commander," Claus replies this time, his voice laced with static. He's still not looking at Lucas, and Lucas's heart starts to sink.

"C-Claus, are you okay?" Lucas asks shakily.

Claus finally turns his head this time. He still has those cerulean irises, those fiery orange locks. His lashes, his lips, it's Claus. It couldn't be anyone else but Claus.

But when he speaks again, Lucas realizes it couldn't be Claus. Not ever, not in a million years.

"You address me as Commander," Claus repeats autonomously, like an order.

Lucas cries.


	2. 2

Lucas is a kind person. Lucas is a caring person, and when you care too much, you cry too much. He thought he swore to be stronger, less weak, less of a coward, but what else is there to do when the one person who you loved most doesn't remember you?

Flint acts quickly, he reaches out and pulls Lucas from the room, gently petting his head to soothe him. The blond only cries harder, warm wet tears streaming down his cheeks and falling loudly onto the hardwood floor.

Flint looks back to Claus, the boy laid spread-eagle across the bed, eyes staring up, unblinking at the ceiling. He was fixated on something, something Flint didn't know. He was unmoving, his body stiff and orderly like a patient on an examination table.

It hurt Flint as well to see his own son like this, and his other one, so wracked by sudden heartbreak and grief. It was Hinawa all over again, except this time one was feeling too overwhelmed and the other felt nothing at all.

"Claus, hey," Flint starts. "Claus, can you hear me?"

"You address me as Commander,"

There is it, that unflinching robotic voice. Not one that belongs to any human. Flint tips his hat in shame, hiding the way heat gathers behind his eyes and tears threaten to escape.

"Claus, please," Lucas's cries ring out again. He's gathered himself a little better, albeit his cheeks were still wet and his nose still sniffly. "Don't do this. If this is some sick sort of joke, it's not funny. Please,"

"I don't know a Claus," the orange haired boy replies. "Commander, that is who I am, that is who I've been, and that is what you will call me by,"

"Liar!" Lucas yells. He stumbles towards the bed and takes the cyborg's hands into his own. Even through the gloves, one of them is cold and limp. "Claus, you're a liar! You can't do this to me! Not after everything you put us through!"

"I don't know a Claus. I am Commander. I've always been."

Lucas stares, wide-eyed and disbelieving. The cyborg doesn't move, his eyes are zoned in on Lucas's face right now, but no emotion registers on his face. Lucas drops his hand and weeps into the bed sheets, sobs filled with anguish.

"What's going on in here?" Kumatora rushes in, Duster hobbling behind her. She takes in the scene before her, and understands almost immediately.

"Oh god, this is one of my worst nightmares," She murmurs quietly.

 **X**

They have to separate Lucas and the cyborg. With much difficulty, Kumatora may add, as Lucas, ever so stubborn, refused to leave the latter's side, stating firmly that 'if Claus could just see my face, he could understand. He could remember, I just know it."

Duster and Flint worked on comforting the distraught boy, as Kumatora hovered over the cyborg, still lying motionlessly on the mattress. One eye, the empty socket, remained open, staring emptily into the distance. The other, his real, human eye, stayed shut.

He looked ordinary, perhaps just another chimera they had yet to fight. She knew of him, the Masked Man, and she knew of Claus thanks to Lucas's many animated retellings of their childhood shenanigans (he would speak of them as if to remind himself that somewhere in his past, there was a Claus that loved him). She just never assumed the two of them would be clumped into the same category. No doubt had the fight with the Masked Man caused Lucas eternal emotional trauma, but Kumatora wonders if this moment possibly hurt even more. Lucas was strong, but he still was, after all, just a boy.

"Oh, I'm gonna kick Claus's ass if he ends up forgetting everything," Kumatora grumbles to herself. She leans over the boy on the table.

Despite his menacing armor and corporal uniform, he still looks like a child. He is, undoubtedly, (and perhaps that was the saddest part of all).

"Hey, Masked Moron, wake up." Kumatora waves her hand over the cyborg's face.

He wakes instantly, as if a programmed order. And perhaps that was merely what he was reduced to now, a ruthless killing machine that listens and obeys and commands.

"My name is Commander," He tells her. Kumatora bites her lip.

"Sure, what the hell, whatever," she replies. "Look, do you remember ANYTHING that's in there?" She taps her finger against his helmet almost violently (to which the cyborg doesn't even flinch at) for extra emphasis. "Like, your parents, who you are, all that shazam."

"I'm the Commander," the cyborg replies resolutely. "I was created in the Chimera Lab by Dr. Andonuts. I am under the rule of Master Porky, and I command the Pig Mask Army. Every squadron."

"Yeah uh, don't you see? There's no pig mask army for you to command anymore. Everything's gone, blew up- all that good jazz."

"As long as Master Porky is still alive, I will follow and lead under his orders." The Masked Man responds.

"He's dead. Well no- he's not but he might as well be dead," Kumatora makes a frustrated noise. "Look, the point is, he won't be giving orders anymore."

The Masked Man quiets. He looks at her contemplatively, Kumatora stares back as a sign of challenge.

"I see," the cyborg says eventually. "Then who is it I serve now?"

"Nobody. You're free, don't you see? Can't you remember anything?" Kumatora replies.

"Negative," The Masked Man declares.

"Yeah, you're hopeless." Kumatora sighs.

"How did the talk go?" Duster's head pokes back in from the doorway. Kumatora gives him a look that's supposed to say 'I'm not getting anywhere here'.

"That bad, huh?" Duster blinks. He turns to the Masked Man, holds out his hand as if offering to shake. Surprisingly, the Masked Man does just that.

"Hey. My name is Duster. You probably don't know me, but I've heard good things about you, Claus," Duster says gently.

"Greetings, Duster. I appreciate your kindness, but I'm afraid you've mistook me for somebody named Claus, which I do not know. I lack a name, but everyone calls me 'Commander', and I hope to be addressed as such," The Masked Man says swiftly.

Kumatora thrusts her hands out in the Masked Man's direction, an expression of anger clearly evident on her face. Her gesture just screams 'See!? I told you; hopeless'.

"That's okay, buddy- er- Commander. It'll take some time. If I could remember my memories, then so can you," Duster assures.

"At least they programmed him with politeness," Duster says as he turns to Kumatora. The woman shakes her head, clearly unimpressed.

"What now? He's a walking scrap of metal. No emotions; no memories," Kumatora says.

"Don't be so quick to give up on him yet," Duster retorts. "He's got a lot to work out. He may be a machine, but there's still a part of him that's human, and that part will always show."

"Then what do you recommend we do?" Kumatora asks. She glances back to the Masked Man. He hasn't moved from his place, standing patiently.

"Here," Duster says. He gestures for something, and a second later Lucas is walking back into the room.

His stance is extremely defensive. He hugs his arms and hunches his back, hiding his mouth behind his wool sweater. Lucas shuffles in when Duster motions for him to come closer, until he's face-to-face with his brother. Duster puts a hand on both of their shoulders.

"Budd- sorry, Commander, I'd like you to meet your new master," Duster says, as formally as he can manage. Lucas's eyes widen. "His name is Lucas, and he is the one you will now be taking orders from."

The Commander bows. Lucas looks back up at Duster, panic written on his face.

"With kind regards, master Lucas," The Commander says easily, as if practiced a thousand times. "I'll do my best to serve you."

"You don't have to call me that," Lucas murmurs back hesitantly. It brings back bad thoughts. Thoughts that he wanted to forget a long, long time ago.

"Then what should I call you?" The cyborg asks.

"Lucas," the boy answers tentatively. "Lucas is fine."

"Lucas, then." The Commander nods.

Kumatora looks just as shocked as Lucas is. "Do you really think this will work?" She whisper-hisses to Duster.

Duster shakes his head. "There's no guarantee, but if Claus can start actively talking to Lucas again, then maybe we can get somewhere."

Kumatora looks back at the two brothers. Then she lets her arms fall at her sides and sighs.

"Okay, let's give this a shot,"


	3. 3

Lucas has trouble opening up again.

(To his credit, is completely understandable)

His only brother was back from the dead. It seemed like a miracle, maybe it was too good to be true. Maybe Lucas didn't deserve the happy ending he wanted. Maybe it was the universe's way of denying him of his only source of joy and familiarity.

He could recall good days with his father, that was for sure. But after everything that happened, after Claus's first death, everything changed and everything came crashing down. And Lucas, the poor little boy was forced to rebuild his walls even higher and higher until nobody could reach his heart anymore.

Except those walls were thin and delicate because Lucas was a gentle boy (he always had been). Those walls collapsed too easily under the slightest emotional havoc. The minute he found himself caring too much for another individual was when they'd turn on him and juggle his trust and heart like glass.

This Claus isn't the Claus he knew.

The Claus he knew slept until noon and then stuffed his face with omelets until he complained of a stomachache. The Claus he knew poked at anthills and tried to race birds until they'd fly too high and out of sight. The Claus he knew was vivacious and full of laughter, full of charm, just as he was, full of love.

That was the Claus he loved.

This Claus- the Commander, was everything but.

He was monotonous (he lacked vitality). He was orderly (so cold and calculated). He had every bit of personality as a block of ice too hard to be carved and too big to be moved.

This was not the Claus Lucas loved.

Or was it?

Lucas rises up from his bed, plagued by thoughts and doubts. He turns his head, over to his side where his supposed brother lay sleeping beside him.

It's not Claus, but he looks oh so alike. It's not Claus, but he breathes softly and brokenly when he sleeps too lightly. It's not Claus, but he is, isn't he?

Somehow, somewhere, deep down, it was still Claus.

And perhaps this was the new Claus, the one that Lucas just had to accept, as much as his rigid body told him not to. As much as he wanted to cry and scream and beg for the old Claus back, perhaps the old Claus was never going to come back.

But he was here, alive.

Despite it all.

(And that's all that mattered, Lucas realized).

 **X**

"It's a sunflower," Lucas explains. The Commander nods, a motion of brevity.

They're walking together in the fields of town. There's a big sunflower meadow just up the hill from Tazmily, and Lucas visited often. Duster suggested bringing Claus along, to jog his legs (and his memory).

"They face towards the sun, hence the name sunflowers," Lucas explains, afraid that the silence would suffocate him. He's spent too long in silence, in fact, only after their world was reset did Lucas properly start speaking again. "You can also eat the seeds."

"Organic," the Commander remarks off-handedly. "They're very beautiful. Nature can create some extraordinary things."

"Yeah," Lucas agrees. "They're nice, aren't they? They remind me of our mom."

"Your mom," the commander corrects. Lucas's heart sinks in his chest.

"Yes... my mom," He whispers. "She liked sunflowers too. Very much so. At least, that's what I believed. In every dream of mine, she appeared in a field of sunflowers smiling at me."

"Your mother must have been a kind woman," the Commander says.

Lucas looks down.

 _She's our mom. How could you forget her?_

He forces those thoughts away and offers Claus a small smile.

"She was the kindest mom," Lucas tells him.

They walk for a while, neither of them saying much. Lucas didn't quite know what to say, in fact. He didn't want to bring up another topic of their childhood that Claus could not remember. Instead, Lucas reaches out and plucks a sunflower from its stem.

"Here," Lucas says. He presents the sunflower to the Commander, who blinks, puzzled.

"It's a gift. From me to you. A sunflower." Lucas says gently. The Commander can only stare at the flower, yellow petals decorating the bold chestnut center. The wind picks up, sways the flower's leaves back and forth and tickles their cheeks. The Commander makes no move to accept the offering, and Lucas is about to panic until a gloved hand reaches out.

"Thank you..." the cyborg replies. His voice suddenly sounds less robotic, less static. It sounds... hollow, but somehow, human. Then it's gone, carried away by the breeze.

"You're welcome," Lucas smiles.

They stand for a bit longer. Lucas looks at the town of Tazmily, atop the sunflower field. It's homey, it's quaint. (If Claus were here, he'd ask Lucas to race him down the hill. Then they'd run and laugh until their sides hurt, and collapse onto the grass.)

"Shall we head back to town?" The Commander asks. Lucas looks overhead to the sun already beginning to travel across the horizon. Soon it would be sundown, and soon it would be dark.

"That's a good idea," Lucas replies. "Come on, let's go back. We'll be missing dinner if we stay out any later."

"I do not require food to keep myself sustained," The Commander says, though he's following Lucas dutifully back to Tazmily.

"But you can still eat food right?" Lucas responds.

"Yes, I believe I can," The cyborg informs. "Though it's not a need. It doesn't benefit me much, my stomach is made of metal anyway."

Lucas winces. He tries to not think too much about the implications of that. How there was a possibility they took Claus under the knife and scooped his insides away to create the perfect chimera who needed no energy to survive.

He shudders.

Flint greets them at the door. The house smells like a charcoal kiln. His father wasn't exactly the greatest chef in the world, but all his products were at least edible. They'd taste good to people who exclusively ate burnt food for a living.

But Lucas always smiles and scarfs down as much as he can. Seeing Flint smile in return was rewarding enough to wash out the bitter taste of burnt steak in his mouth.

The two of them trudge through the door, Lucas heading in first and the Commander on his heel.

"Oh, you might want to put that elsewhere if you're gonna eat," Flint says warily to the cyborg.

The Commander turns his head to see what the older man is referencing. Flint points at the sunflower still held tightly in the Commander's arms.

He doesn't reply straight away, which solicits a nervous feeling from Lucas. Instinctively he reaches for the hem of his father's sleeve. Both of them eye the Commander with concern, wondering if they had said something they shouldn't have.

Then out of the blue, the Commander says "I would rather not. It was a gift. From Lucas to me, and I would like to cherish it."

Lucas blinks, his grip loosening. Flint's just as surprised, his eyes widening ever so slightly. They exchange a look, and while Lucas wouldn't exactly say he was confused, it certainly caught him off guard. In the last few days he's been here, the Commander was quite reserved and did what was told of him without question (as a robot should, of course). To see the cyborg randomly defy an order was sort of refreshing, albeit a little sudden and out of the blue.

It was quite a human thing to do.

Lucas is quick to smile. "Okay, you can carry it around if you want," He says assuringly.

The Commander looks somewhat pleased with himself. Dutifully he carries the sunflower over to the kitchen area, and Lucas looks up at Flint.

"Well, that was sure something," He remarks. Flint nods.

"Although I'm afraid of the flower getting food on it- or the other way around- it is a little nice to see him have opinions for himself," Flint hums. He turns to Lucas. "Did you give him that flower?"

"Yes," Lucas replies. "We went up the hill today. I just- I wanted to give him something, kind of just to see how he would react." It's not completely a lie, yet not completely true either.

Flint ruffles Lucas's hair affectionately. "Lucky for you he seems to like it,"

"I'm glad," Lucas admits truthfully.

"Pardon my intrusion," the Commander's head pokes in from the doorway (he's still holding onto the sunflower). "I have set the plates and the utensils out on the table, and poured water. Is there anything else I should do?"

"No, Commander," Lucas calls back. "You've done well, we'll be there in a second."

The Commander disappears from sight again, likely back into the kitchen. Even though it was only a small gesture, there was some semblance of hope that returned to him. Perhaps he wasn't Claus (not yet, anyway) but he was human (to some extent).


	4. 4

The Commander always wakes up at exactly seven fifteen in the morning. He gets up without any difficulty at all (stiffly rising like a zombie from it's grave), going from the bed to wait obediently in the kitchen until everyone else in the house awoke. The first time he'd done that, Lucas had been totally caught off guard. He'd nearly slipped on their tiled floor when he caught sight of the cyborg standing like a statue in the dimly lit room.

It was fairly easy to grow accustomed to (that was a lie, Lucas never got used to it). His heart would still leap a little whenever the Commander's glowing eyes traced Lucas's steps all the way into the kitchen.

" _They're implanted with LED," the Commander explained to him. He points to his good eye. "They did it so I would be able to see better in the dark."_

 _"Oh," Lucas had replied. That made sense, he thought at first. Then he tried to not think about how many modifications Claus really had received while in the Lab._

 _It was a bad thought, he admitted, because he lost quite a lot of sleep over it._

After a week, the Commander had started to awake a little later than normal. It was only by a few seconds (Lucas counted) and Lucas might have been making a fuss out of nothing, but perhaps it meant the Commander was slowly changing.

On the sixth day the Commander had awoken a full minute after he was supposed to, and Lucas mentally cheered inside his head. It felt a little pathetic, if such victories like this were meaningful, but it was a sign that something was slowly changing (perhaps he was too hopeful to start labelling these things as changes, but he had to hold onto anything he could.)

On the eighth day the Commander had awoken five minutes after seven fifteen. Although Lucas doubted his concept of time was too strict, he still confronted him about it.

"You woke later than usual." Lucas says when they're sitting together at the kitchen table.

The Commander eyes the bowl of oatmeal that Lucas is eating. Flint left to buy more gorceries, so the two of them were left alone at home (just like the old days.) He'd specifically asked to not eat at all, as it wasn't good fot his stomach.

"It feels nice on the mattress," the Commander admits.

"Do you like sleeping?" Lucas asks tersely.

Claus liked sleeping.

The Commander shakes his head. "Not especially. I don't really need sleep either, although it does feel good on occasion."

"On occasion?"

"Yes. Sometimes it's peaceful. But sometimes I get horrible images in my head," the Commander replies. Lucas freezes, his spoon clattering uselessly onto the table beside his bowl.

"...You get nightmares?" Lucas asks hesitantly.

"Is that what you call them?" the Commander's brows furrow. "It's almost like a slideshow I am unable to escape."

 _Robots don't have nightmares_ _(Robots don't dream at all.)_

"Do you mind telling me what they're about?" Lucas inquires. He doesn't want to push too far, making the Commander uncomfortable was the very last thing he wanted to do.

"The Lab." the Commander begins to tap his fingers against the wooden table rythmically.

It was a strange gesture, truthfully. But maybe it was just a nervous habit, or a tactic that helped him concentrate. Or possibly Lucas was just too paranoid at things like these (he dismissed it as the third option.)

His pace was languid, and he closed his good eye. "The Lab... Doctor Andonuts... and... there was a knife. There was a machine, leather bounds-" the rythm increased in pace. "My wrists were held, my ankles chained... Bright white light overhead." the tapping grew louder, almost violent. By now, Lucas was very thoroughly uneasy. He thought he ought to stop the Commander in case he did something reckless too suddenly, but found himself not able to approach.

"Cold, cold metal... and the sounds of alarms... I felt... numb... I felt... hollow... I felt- I felt-"

Lucas stares at the Commander in pure worry. He'd stopped talking, the pace of his unrelentless tapping turned into a haywire metronome, and his eyes were squeezed shut, as if being slowly taken apart from the inside.

Unsure if he should help the cyborg, Lucas reaches out shakily to try and grasp the latter's shoulder in comfort.

Then the Commander snaps his head up, eyes wide and unfocused. He stares straight into the wall and opens his mouth.

"I felt scared."

There's a thousand emotions rushing out from behind his tongue. He looked frightened, petrified beyond belief. For a split second, he looked human. Like a lost little boy, terrified for his life, his future, what was to happen to him. Like the boy he was when he was taken away from all sense of familiarity and safety.

(Like the boy that somebody knew, for he was, after all, just a boy.)

"Commander..." Lucas starts.

"Apologies." The Commander turns to Lucas, all previous expression gone from his face. "I got carried away. There might have been something corrupting my memory, I apologize if my outburst upset you."

"Oh Claus," Lucas whispers just loud enough for the Commander to hear. "Oh Claus, what have you gone through? Just what have they done to you...? Oh Claus..."

 _My brother._

 **X**

Lucas catches the Commander before bedtime today. He never changes out of his uniform, but Lucas presents him with a matching pair of pyjamas that he'd asked Flint to pick up while he was out.

"Here, they're for you," Lucas explains.

"Another gift? You shouldn't have," the Commander says. "How do I use it?"

"They're sleeping clothes. You put them on when you sleep," Lucas tells him. As if to demonstrate, he strips off his own shirt and pulls his own striped pyjamas over his head.

"See? Just put them on."

The Commander stares briefly at the pile of clothes in his hands. Then he carefully removes his jacket and shirt (Lucas tries to avoid the mass of scars scattered across his chest and torso. He also tries to ignore how his heart suddenly hurts.) and puts them to the side. The Commander carefully mimics Lucas's action, putting the pyjama top on with minimal effort.

"Yes, just like that." Lucas smiles.

"It does feel better to sleep in than the jacket," the Commander remarks. "Although I don't know why you insist on me sleeping as well. I really don't need sleep to function."

"It would make me happy if you would," Lucas says quietly.

"... Then I will," the cyborg decides.

Lucas beams, trying to hide how delighted the simple phrase made him feel (then he was reminded of the time that he had asked Claus to hold his hand because he kept getting night terrors. Claus did, of course, and told him that he'd do anything to make Lucas feel happy.)

"I have a solution for your nightmares, too." Lucas continues. The Commander tilts his head, like a curious puppy.

"I'll sing to you," Lucas tells him. "That way, when you fall asleep, if the nightmare ever get to you again you can sing this song. And then you'll remember that it's the song you listened to when you fell asleep, and realize that it's just a dream and not real."

Lucas looks down, not yet ready to gauge the Commander's reaction.

"...And you'll remember that you're here with me, and that you're safe here." Lucas swallows the lump in his throat. He waits for the response (not really sure what kind of response he's really waiting for.)

"I've never listened to a song," the Commander says finally. His voice is barely audible.

 _Yes you have._ Lucas wants to say. _Mom sang to us all the time._

"Maybe you'll like it," Lucas replies nervously.

"I'm willing to give it a try." The Commander nods.

Lucas lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding in. "Great."

He climbs onto his mattress, the Commander following in suit. Lucas shuffles around a bit until he's comfortably nestled in the blanket. He turns his head to check on the Commander, whose lying on his back and staring at the ceiling as if waiting. His slesping posture is unbelievably stiff, but he looks satisfied enough at least.

Lucas shuts off the lamp on their bedside, lies back down and closes his eyes. The lyrics of the old melody float back into his mind, and he opens his mouth and begins to sing a soft, familiar tune.

 _"All of the treasures_

 _In all of the worlds,_

 _It could not compare to you,_

 _My darling sons._

 _And if I fade away,_

 _I'll look towards the stars,_

 _Sparkling in the darkest nights_ ,

 _Remind me of your eyes."_

It was a gentle melody, one that Lucas had listened to his mother sing to them for the most of his life. It was calming, it was soothing, it enveloped him with a sense of security and happiness. It was warm, it was safe, it was like a mother's hug (and he wanted to share it with the Commander.) His throat ached a little when he let the last notes drift off, and he blinked away the misty eyes as he looked in the darkness of their room.

The Commander was snoring softly, already asleep. His expression was placid, peaceful.

Lucas reached out slowly and took hold of the Commander's hand. His fingers laced together, as they had done thousands and thousands of times before.

Lucas lets out a shallow breath in their silent room. He closes his eyes, envisions Hinawa in a field of flowers, the melody of her song drifting back into his head. He envisions Hinawa, and this time, Claus standing beside her. He waves to him, the bellows with laughter and gestures for Lucas to come forward.

Although, it doesn't feel quite right yet. Lucas opens his eyes again. He blinks several times, before closing his eyes and envisioning Claus, standing in the uniform of the Pigmask Army Commander, in all his glory and pride.

Then he runs towards his brother, into his arms. He doesn't care that it was the ruthless Commander, he doesn't care this time that he had no memory of who Lucas was and why he was here. He hugs him tight, because the Commander was his brother. He's lulled to sleep by the warm embrace.


	5. 5

The rain beats down heavily against the windows; the roof; and the walls of the house. It's relentless; violent, yet somehow peaceful all at once. Lucas sits on the couch in the living room, watching the raindrops stain their glass windows and slide down.

The rain always makes everything suddenly louder, even when it's quiet. He can hear the constant pitter-patter, the roar of the fireplace, his own shallow breath. Lucas likes the rain (it's loud enough to drown out his own thoughts that go unwelcomed).

The Commander sits on the opposite side of the couch, seeming to follow Lucas's movements when Lucas turns back to look at him.

The way he sits so reserved and so far away that it makes Lucas feel awkward in his own house. (Like his father had invited a guest over that he didn't know how to interact with.)

Speaking of Flint, he was sitting across them on the single loveseat, nose stuck in a book and Boney settled on the rug in front of him. The fireplace was crackling with warmth, it felt just like the old times. Except not, of course.

Everything was so familiar- save the fact that the Commander wasn't Claus (not yet, anyway.)

Lucas clears his throat, successfully gaining the attention of the Commander.

"We should go outside after the downpour is over," He tells the Commander.

"Would it not be too wet?" the Commander asks. "What would you want to do with the soggy ground, anyway?"

"Puddles," Lucas replies. He may have been turning twelve this year already, but that never meant he couldn't have some fun after a rainstorm. "I have an extra pair of boots. We can splash around... Have some fun, maybe. And Boney can join."

The chocolate puppy perked up immediately at the sound of his name. He sits up and wags his tail, waiting for further instructions.

"Water is not good for my systems," the Commander responds.

"Oh-" Lucas feels a little stupid now. The Commander was half robot. Of course, he should've known better.

"But if you want to, we could," the Commander says immediately after. There's no real emotion behind his voice, and it sounds like an order being recited rather than any opinion of his own. Lucas frowns.

"I don't want to do it of you don't want to do it, Clau- Commander," Lucas replies gently.

The Commander's brows knit together. "Was it not an order? I'm not supposed to defy orders."

Lucas thought they'd been through this already, but clearly, the Commander still needed time to adjust.

"No, Commander, it was simply a suggestion," Lucas explains. "I tossed an idea out there, and I honestly don't mind if you don't want to do it."

"I'm not supposed to have ideas of my own either," the Commander replies without missing a beat. From the carpet, Boney whines.

I know, buddy, Lucas thinks to himself. Me too.

"Commander, you're free now," Lucas says earnestly. "If you're going to be living under this roof, then you're free to have your own feelings, thoughts, and ideas. And you're free to express them and act upon them as you wish."

"It's not like what it was before," Lucas continues. "You don't have to live like that anymore."

"But I was built to listen to orders," the Commander responds emotionlessly. "I was built to carry them out, and to be a slave with no objections."

Can't you hear yourself? Can't you hear how awful it sounds? And how painful was it to be aware that your existence solely was for another person's convenience?

Lucas bites his lip, an attempt to keep his voice from quivering too much when he responds. "Commander, you were built to live. You were built to be alive and to experience the world that's constantly changing around you. You were built to discover the things you love and the things you hate. You were built to be hurt just as you were built to be healed. You were built to love and to be loved, Commander."

Lucas exhales slowly, afraid that if he cried now his heart would explode from his chest. He doesn't even realize the Commander has gone silent.

How long before he'd stop feeling like this? How long would he have to remind Claus that he wasn't a machine anymore? How long until Claus could smile unprompted, how long before the life would return to his eyes? 

"...I was...?" The Commander finally whispers.

Lucas looks up to him, his face looks achingly similar to Claus (he was so close and so far at once.) He smiles.

"Yes, you were," Lucas croaks out shakily.

The Commander falls silent again, save for a rhythmic tapping against his own thigh.

Lucas can only wait with bated breath.

"I... I'll take your word for it, then," the Commander says eventually, quietly. Lucas's heart beats rapidly in his chest.

"Please," the blond haired boy murmurs.

In the corner of the room, Flint smiles. Boney's tail thumps against the floor in a happy wag.

X

They end up not going outside after all. Lucas makes a promise that they'll go out after it dries up a little bit, and so they did.

The air was still moist (it's like that usually after a monsoon) but the ground was free of any puddles.

Playing outside wasn't as fun as it used to be. He'd practically explored every single bit of their yard and nearly half of the forest. Back then, he had too much time on his hands while Flint was away. After he'd turned the house upside down, checking every nook and cranny, finding hidden change and old toys stuck between sofa cushions and bookshelves, there nothing to keep him busy inside. He found refuge in the outdoors sometimes. Boney would always inevitably tag along.

Boney, a good, loyal friend. Possibly his only friend back then after Claus... well...

Fuel was an outlier, he'd been there, but not as much as Boney had. Lucas still visited him from time to time, and he hadn't changed at all. At least, not enough to warrant any notice.

Now, Lucas just sat in the yard with his stick, occasionally poking at the ground. The Commander had come out as well, but Lucas let him have free reign to look around. Hopefully, he could remember a thing or two if he looked particularly close.

Lucas digs the tip of his stick into the dirt, not really sure what to do while his brother- the Commander- roamed the yard. Boney trotted up to him and nudged his leg.

Lucas smiled down at him and then turned to the dirt. He guided the stick through careful movements and then turned to Boney.

"There, it's a picture of you," Lucas says.

It looks lovely, Lucas. Boney replies. He pads over to sit on a patch of grass facing Lucas.

"I'll draw a picture of me, too," Lucas tells him. He proceeds to do just that, drawing himself beside Boney, and Flint shortly after. Then he sketches a picture of the Commander, with a smiley face, holding his and Flint's hand.

Lucas takes a step back and smiles.

They look very happy. Boney remarks encouragingly.

"Thank you, Boney," Lucas says. He barks in reply.

"I think we should probably see what the Commander is doing," Lucas realizes. "I don't want him wandering too far- or getting caught in a conversation with the other residents-"

I don't think they'd like his appearance very much. Boney adds.

"Yes, exactly-" Lucas drops his stick and cranes his neck to search. "Now- where is he?"

Lucas rounds the corner of the yard and spots the Commander almost instantly. He's crouched next to a large shrub, looking very stiff and unmoving.

"Oh, Commander," Lucas says, approaching him. "Did you find something interesting?"

The Commander doesn't respond. Lucas gives him a few seconds, maybe he just hadn't heard. When he makes no move to do anything Lucas starts to get uncomfortable. There must be something that was wrong for the Commander to ignore him like this. Was he mad? (Lucas couldn't tell, and even so, what exactly would he be angry about?)

"Commander-" Lucas begins, but all words die in his throat when he steps forward and sees what the Commander is holding in his palm.

There, lying in the middle of his hands is a small, gray rabbit. Its eyes are lifeless and its frail body bent in sickening directions. It's not moving, all limbs failing it. It's young, so very young, can't be over more than a few months old. There's a large gash in its belly, the blood dry and sticking to matted, missing fur. It's a gruesome, nasty site, and the rabbit is, without a doubt, dead.

Lucas feels sick to his stomach, bile rising to his throat before he can help it. There's something so inherently disturbing about dead animals, and yet so inherently despondent. Maybe it was the smell or the realization that a life has been lost. Maybe it was just the fact that the dead always looked so vulnerable and lonely. A picture of Claus's twisted and mangled body flashed into his mind. The burns from the lightning that stretched across his skin. (Red and uneven, bones crushed to dust, steel meeting flesh-)

Lucas opens his mouth- then closes it. He doesn't know what to say. (what do you say in a situation like this?)

Then Lucas catches a glance at the Commander's face. His usual monotonous expression is gone. His brows are furrowed together in what can only be called pensive sadness. Lucas swears he sees it, as it's gone within the blink of an eye. But for a split second, the Commander looks so wonderfully, horribly, human.

"I'm so sorry, Commander," Lucas hears himself whisper. The picture of Claus wavers.

There's silence from the latter. Deservedly so, Lucas thinks, and yet he's plagued by hurtful memories of his own.

"Commander- perhaps we could-" Lucas speaks up again, his throat feeling quite sore. He doesn't want to cry again, especially if it was suddenly triggered by something so small- or big? Who knew.

The commander arises abruptly, still holding the rabbit in his hand. Lucas stands too, almost instinctively.

"Commander-" Lucas tries again, but the Commander doesn't even acknowledge him. The cyborg moves along in his own way, shifting to another part of the yard, eyes glued to the dead in his palm. He moves with such precision, it's as if he knows the layout like the back of his hand. When he's moved far enough away, he kneels down beside a flower and proceeds to dig a hole with his mechanical hand.

He doesn't flinch when the soil stains and seeps into his fingers. He's focused, brows knit in concentration, working very diligently as if nothing else in the world existed. When he deems the hole deep enough, he lowers his good hand (The human one). Slowly and carefully, he places the rabbit into the crater.

(Lucas watches the whole scenario in awe.)

"My apologies." The Commander finally speaks. His tone is strange and garbled, static slurring his own words. He seems disoriented, Lucas swears he sees the machine hand twitch as it covers the hole with dirt. "I don't know what came over me. It was sudden and uncalled for and screwed with my system. I suppose I'll have to do a system reboot and try to figure out the... issue. I hope I didn't cause any unhappy feelings- next time I will assess the situation a little more thoroughly-"

"No," Lucas says, he walks forward when the Commander stands.

He reaches out and takes both hands into his own. The steel feels cool, thinly covered with wet gravel and dirt. The gloves are covered with bits of fur, even dried blood. Lucas doesn't mind. "You did a good thing, Commander," Lucas says, forcing the most sincerity into his words. He smiles in a way that he hopes is reassuring and encouraging. "I'm proud of you."

"But I failed to take in my surroundings and your feelings before I acted," The commander replies. His voice sounds conflicted. "That was brash of me- I acted on impulse, and I would have to be punished for that-"

"I would never punish you!" Lucas cut in hurriedly. He gives the commander's hands a squeeze. "What you did was kind, and it made me happy- it made YOU happy. The rabbit is safe now, and it now knows its body has a wonderful place to rest. Isn't that all that matters?"

The Commander seems to relax at the proclamation. Lucas can't help but beam again, taking the silence as confirmation. The commander stares at him, before imitating the smile that Lucas displayed. It's kind of awkward when he does it- the curve of his lips slightly crooked and the edge of his mouth twitching. It makes Lucas laugh in exhilaration and emotion that he can only describe as euphoria.

(The sun shines overhead. The rain clouds shuffle away to bright, sunny skies. For only a fraction of a second, Lucas thinks everything is going to be just fine.)

* * *

Hey.

I'm not dead. God is going to have to try harder than that to kill me.

Look for the next update in a month.


End file.
